


Blueberries

by TsunamiStarz



Series: MCC9 Blue Bats [3]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF, Minecraft championship - Fandom
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fruity B be sad, Gen, Josh seriously needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27572593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TsunamiStarz/pseuds/TsunamiStarz
Summary: Not dissimilar to Liam in the previous event, Josh feels a little down after his team’s loss in Dodgebolt.Except “little” is an understatement.A very, very, very, very big understatement.
Relationships: Fruitberries & Charles | Grian
Series: MCC9 Blue Bats [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1986085
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	Blueberries

**Author's Note:**

> This was very self indulgent. But I am speed and had to write a BlueBatsFam (that’s what I’m calling the MCC9 Blue Bats + Grian {because MCC11 Lime Liches} now because typing out MCC9 Blue Bats is a hassle at this point) oneshot. 
> 
> So, to the few, yet passionate, BlueBatsFam supporters, enjoy!

Feral screams of joy broke the usual serenity of the beach as the victors walked out onto the Champions’ Runway per usual. Dream and Sapnap were at the front lines, cheering loudly as the third DreamTeam member, George, waved at them bashfully from the runway alongside the three other Green Guardians. False’s previously exclusive title of “Back-to-back Winner” was now shared with George; this was an occurrence that could’ve been avoided altogether, had Josh performed better. That’s what he told himself, anyway.

Just as with Liam’s team in the previous tournament, Josh and his team, the Lime Llamas, were defeated in Dodgebolt 1-3. It was a rather disheartening way to go; he would’ve preferred bringing it to match point and having a winner 2-3, but things are never perfect. He could sense the collective disappointment in his team as they congratulated the winners; the champions reciprocating to the runners-up. It brought to mind what Liam must’ve felt the previous month; feeling responsible for his team’s defeat. Josh felt the thought sink into his brain a little more as he stepped away from the crowd, leaning against one of the tables that were set up for not only the championship after-party, but also a celebration of the anniversary of the event. He rubbed his arms slightly, feeling dreadfully cold despite the lime jacket he wore being more than capable to keep away the November night chill. He released a shaky breath, half of it caught by the squared smiley mask he wore, the other half forming a frosty puff of air in the evening cold. Despite there being a multitude of torches and fire pits dotted strategically around the seating area where fairy lights twinkled, Josh still felt frozen in place. It was terrifying, the sound of cheers and fireworks drowning out into a distant whisper as he fell deeper and deeper into his thoughts; a dangerous place to be treading, yet he couldn’t escape. The doubt and self-depreciation was blinding, so much so that his vision was blurring.

There was a searing hot sensation against his freezing skin, and he realized the blurring of his vision were tears flowing down his cheeks unabashedly. Surely someone would see him soon, and ask what was wrong, and he wasn’t in the right mindset to even think clearly in the moment, so his body—thankfully—let him move, and he swiftly moved out of the open. His feet naturally took him into the Hall of Fame, where there were less people, but still people nonetheless. His resolve to not speak with anyone was still unwaveringly strong, and he nearly tripped as he ran down the stairs to the first basement layer. His feet hit the firm floor and he barely registered where he was going; he just ran forward into one of the Champions’ displays. Josh hid behind one of the statues in the display he’d ran into, standing back-to-back with the statue. Once determining the area as safe, he slid down to the floor, bringing his knees to his chest in a tight grip, and let the waterworks flow. He felt severe disappointment and shame, curled up on the floor, crying his heart out, but he couldn’t do much to stop it. Nor could he control how loud his choked sobs were; his body was moving on autopilot, at this point. Why was he crying again? Oh right, because he let his team down. Because the pressure of Dodgebolt was overbearing. Because the last time he reached Dodgebolt, he won. Because… last time, he was with his family. And no matter how great his team had performed that day, his team would never be _them_. And that thought alone broke him. His self esteem, though most definitely nonexistent at the moment, was forgotten as he bawled like a young, frightened child lost in a department store. He just wanted his family. His family that he only saw once a month.

His ears managed to grasp the sound of hearty laughter and cheers echoing throughout the basement, and he curled in on himself tighter, biting his lip aggressively in a desperate attempt to keep his sobs contained. He couldn’t bear the thought of being caught like this; a ruthless warrior, coveted sensei, and dedicated leader balled up on the floor behind a Champions’ display, sobbing a pool beneath him. He needed to be strong. But he just _couldn’t_. The voices faded just as quickly as they appeared, and Josh was left in his own whimpering peace again, thankful for the silence and security that came with being alone in the basement. His heart never loosened from the tight, pained ball that it had rolled into, though. As he released his lower lip from the painful trap of his teeth, a metallic tang invaded his taste buds, and he realized that he’d drawn blood from biting too hard. The sharp pain in his lip didn’t help his current situation, and new tears followed the paths of the dried on his cheeks. His heart cried out for some form of comfort as he tried to recycle any warmth from himself as he could, but the same painfully familiar chill from outside returned in a wave, as if he was being thrown into an ocean of freezing water. He was tired, cold, alone, and afraid. He faintly registered the sweep of chilly air hitting the right side of his face, where his mask usually covered. When had it slipped off? His emotions were a wreck, a hurricane of distress and anger at himself for being so pathetic; he was breaking down because of what? A loss in a minigame? It wasn’t even a loss, more so just an instance of not gaining a temporary crown and a title. The competitors never “lost”, there were just those who won and gained, and those who didn’t win and weren’t necessarily affected. So… why was he reacting so violently?

That was just another question added to the list of those that will probably remain unanswered, swept away into a corner of his mind that he will try his best to forget after his episode was over. The additional question of “when, exactly, will it be over?” was something Josh chose to simply not acknowledge. Whether it was because he knew it was smarter not to, or because he just simply did not have the mental strength to think about it, he’ll never know. He only continued to lay there, on the floor, curled so tightly into the fetal position that it couldn’t be comfortable, but yet, that was the only thing he could do. His muscles were seized up, his limbs frozen in place. He couldn’t move if he wanted to, his heart so shattered that it hurt. It hurt to think. It hurt to lay there. It hurt to _be_. To exist. Right there, in the instance, wallowing in regret, sorrow, and disappointment. He couldn’t really compare the pain to anything; it was new, different; alien, in a way. An emotional wound that hurt physically. He recalled Liam having a breakdown as well the month prior, though much less intense, after his team’s defeat in the Dodgebolt arena. It must run in the family. Josh chuckled bitterly at the thought. Even in the midst of a breakdown, his mind still fished out the subtle humorous details of his thoughts. For once, he appreciated his natural instinct to do that, though it helped to the equivalent of putting a small bandaid over a gaping stab, having not wiped up the surface blood or properly cleaned out the wound. So, it essentially didn’t help at all, but very sugarcoated.

Josh had no interpretation of time. He had no clue how long he sat there. His tears long dried, his stare blankly zoned in on the layer of fake snow decorating the themed background of the display he’d hidden in. It was… vaguely familiar. He tried to decipher it; tried to turn his gaze to the statues towering above him to identify them, but he, unsurprisingly, couldn’t. There were a lot of things he couldn’t do at that moment. But... something he could do at that moment was register a voice. A voice above him, so close yet so distant, so echoey, so faded, that it barely communicated to him above a whisper. It spoke again, and this time, he could decipher the words being spoken.

“Fruity B?”

That nickname… That was a nickname given to him… So, the words were being spoken to him. It took all his remaining strength to move his gaze, landing on a small, golden blond male, who was behind the statue next to the one Josh had hidden behind. He stood barely shorter than the statue, wearing a cherry red oversized sweater, and dark gray trousers. Concern was the only decipherable emotion in his dark honey eyes. And all over his face, for that matter. Josh tried to speak up, but any explanation died on his parched tongue. But his determination to get any words out was probably a bit too strong, because he felt a surge of weak energy hit his body, and felt his mouth move with a word, and his chest rumble with his weak voice; the first word that came to mind, before he registered it.

“Horse,”

The concern on the golden blonde’s face only increased with the new information. He moved to kneel beside Josh, and Josh immediately felt the warmth radiating off of him, and a sense of security and peace that he only knew from one thing.

“Family,”

Josh’s voice cracked, but he didn’t care. Like an infant, he made weak grabbing motions at the blond, and the smaller male helped Josh into a sitting position before pulling him into a hug. Josh’s mind was still hazy, only allowing him to think and speak in single-word sentences, but the fuzzy warmth blooming throughout his body at the presence of the other was already helping him recover. His ears gradually began to clear up, allowing him to hear the small reassurances that the golden blond— _Grian_ , his mind piped up—was whispering softly, rocking them gently as a parent would with their child. Josh sighed, resting his head on Grian’s shoulder as he was tempted to fall asleep right there, in the warm grasp. It was different, for sure. He hadn’t been in too many extremely personal occurrences with Grian, and he was used to False being the only mothering figure in their family, but the new addition to their closely knit group was proving himself to be just as nurturing, if not more, than the female Hermit. And Josh couldn’t be more thankful, as Grian delivered the sole things he needed: comfort, familiarity, and peace. Soon enough, Josh would be able to calm down completely. He would have by default, but the presence of a trusted family member would speed up the process significantly. Josh only hoped that Grian would be okay with staying in a hug for a little while longer. Luckily for him, the golden blond didn’t mind.


End file.
